Divided Loyalties
by Lionel Nixon
Summary: Her dad had a secret job. Her whole family was one big secret. And to add to it . . . there was a boy. With even more secrets! (Our Destiny Sequel)
1. Chapter 1

**Fine…I was bored…**

 **But anyways OD is very close to 4k views. This one should be better because I've gained a lot of experience since OD**

 **Prepare yourself because you're about to get authore'd!**

 **Authore'd . . . I need to write that down. That was good . . .**

 **TT**

Silence. Eerie silence.

Suddenly, an earsplitting ring went off. The school doors would've been swept away in an ocean, had they not been attached. An ocean of teenagers that is.

One teenage girl was swiftly escorted to a black limo. It drove off spraying a cloud of soot. Little had they known, they were being tracked.

Footsteps traced along the rooftops as they followed the dark vehicle. Soon enough, they arrived at a private airport. Only one passenger jet was there.

He couldn't afford to wait any longer, he had to make his move.

A shot fired, promptly brining down one guard. All the others were instantly on alert. They shouted in their native language, as they all hustled around.

One thing he did understand was . . .

" _Deathstroke!"_

This hadn't been the first time he'd done work in this country. He was sure it wouldn't be the last. There were rumors of the one-eyed man who hunted people down.

Clad in his weapons, and black and orange armor, he swiftly approached the guards. He dodged multiple bullets, but hit his targets perfectly.

He retrieved his sword, as a few ran at him. He swiftly sliced, and stabbed at them. He stepped over heaps of limp bodies.

He grabbed the sixteen year old girl by the arm, before she could make a run for it. Before he knew it, a large shadow was cast over him.

"Deathstroke."

"Batman."

"Killing a minor? Not to mention the fact that she's the princess"

"I don't question my employers. You traveled a long ways out here," he commented.

"So did you. She's on her way to the US to discuss a treaty," he informed.

"Some people obviously don't want that to happen."

He pulled his pistol shot, but Batman quickly dodged. A batarang was thrown and it knocked the pistol out of his hand.

With a growl of annoyance, he drew his assault rifle from his back, and rapidly shot at him. An exploding batarang flew at the gun, blowing it out of his hand, and jolting him back.

He ran at him with is sword, and Batman drew a batarang. He blocked most of his attacks with the batarang, and eventually held it against him. They both fought in a battle of strength.

"Let me guess . . . the _son_."

"Let _me_ guess . . . the _brother_."

They repelled each other and both stumbled backwards. He ran towards the aircraft, as the door began to close. All in a blur, he ran up the air stairs, flipped off, and jumped inside.

Batman just watched. He knew the pilot, and the princess were as good as gone.

 **TT**

"-And you saw him? Wait . . . the princess?" Melissa Wilson asked. A twenty-eight year old Melissa sat on the couch, folding flowery scented clothes.

"I don't _want_ him to be caught, but if he is, well then . . ."

" _Then you'll tell me where he is?"_

"I don't know . . . Uh, Laura is almost here, I have to go," She swiftly hung up. After giving up life as a vigilante after her father's heroic death, she moved to the suburbs. She now lived a normal life with her niece. Well, as normal as it could be, with the press always wondering if she had something going on with the famous Damian Wayne. Maybe she'd been to a few banquets and after parties with him, but nothing more, really.

But, her brother . . . he lived a not so normal life. A few months after the fall of URSA, he disappeared from the face of the earth. Then a year or two later, he shows up with a child, who she watches over while he plays assassin. She was still working on the story from him as to where Laura came from. But, there was one thing that she never wanted to do. And that was enter Laura into the life of a crime fighter.

The door was suddenly thrusted open; and a light tan skinned, raven-haired, thirteen year old girl dragged in.

"Hey. How was school?"

"Meh." She mumbled as she staggered with the overloaded backpack.

"You learn anything?"

She gasped, and perked up. "Dad!"

She was engulfed in a large hug, as her father came from the kitchen.

"I thought you were on that business trip for another day?"

The two siblings' eyes met briefly.

"Well, I finished up early," he shrugged. "Now, we get to spend the whole weekend. How about some ice cream?"

"With the hot fudge that sinks to the bottom of the bowl?" Laura asked excitedly.

"Turning the vanilla into chocolate," they said simultaneously.

"Uh . . . don't you have the science project due in a day?" Melissa interjected.

"I can finish it tomorrow," she promised.

"You have too much to do in one day, you need to get started right away," Melissa decided firmly.

She irritably marched upstairs. Mumbling something about the 'fun police'.

"Come on, Melissa, lighten up," Luke encouraged.

"You, on the other hand, are a little too light."

"It's Friday. Is she supposed to sit inside and read a book the whole day?" He exaggerated.

"She's had this project for a week, but you wouldn't know that."

"You mean to tell me I don't know what's going on in my own daughter's life?" He asked disbelievingly. She shrugged.

He sighed. "You know I'd like to work less, but business-"

"And, what business is that?" She challenged.

"I'm not having this talk with you again . . ."

"What's to talk about? About how you-"

"I work for the government," he interrupted her.

"You sure use the term government loosely."

"We aren't talking about this." He gathered his jacket, and exited the house. With a sigh, she roamed a hand through her hair. It was then that she noticed Laura had been watching.

"Thanks a lot. You made dad leave," she stormed upstairs.

Great. They'd made her the enemy.

 **TT**

 **Review, Fav, Follow!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Thanks for the first follow! And were back . . .**

 **TT**

Laura suddenly busted into kitchen. She jerked open the fridge door, and scanned briskly. It was a crisp, dewy morning, but she'd hardly noticed.

"A good morning to you too . . ."

"Morning," she said hurriedly.

"I already made pancakes," Melissa pointed out.

"I appreciate that, I really do, but I'm going to have to pass," she said awkwardly.

"You need to eat something," Melissa reminded her.

"Dad gave me some money," she shrugged.

"What for?"

"For nothing. I can't have money now?" She curtly walked out, before without for an answer. Melissa couldn't help but feeling that Laura was too much like she used to be. That wouldn't turn out too well.

 **TT**

Laura toyed with her locker, until it finally opened. She gathered her belongings before turning to go to class. But, then she stopped, and she saw him.

She stared in awe at the kid who walked down the hall. He had spiked brown hair, and dark blue eyes. He moved with such confidence for someone she'd never seen.

"You going to stare or are lasers going to come out your eyes?"

"Hey, Tiffany," she smirked at her best friend.

"His name is Brady," her brunette friend began.

"It doesn't matter . . ."

"He's new to town," she continued. Suddenly, Laura shrieked excitedly, but quickly concealed it. He walked by, without a glance.

"He's in our homeroom class."

They both quickly walked after him.

 **TT**

Luke approached the hatch, and took his mask off. The abandoned subway station. He drank in the familiar smell with a deep breath. The smell of old gravel and the dusty air. He tapped on the voice recognition software he recently added.

"Password?" A robotic voice asked.

"Deadpool sucks."

He opened the hatch, and climbed down. He took in his surroundings, the same computer was there. The same everything was there. He glanced over to a picture on the table of his father. A warm smile came to his face, as he looked at his reflection. He noticed the scar over his left eye. He received it during combat training once. He still had his eye, but it wasn't as strong.

A clatter sound rang as something fell.

"Leave, Melissa."

He walked over to the computer, and resumed his work. He studied complicated blueprints to a specific building.

"That your next target?" She asked.

"All these years and you still can't mind your own business," he chuckled wryly.

"All I'm saying is, you need to be careful."

He turned to her suspiciously. "Why? What do you know?"

"I say that in a general term . . ."

"You're working with him, aren't you?" He whipped around on her.

"No, I'm not—what are you doing?" He felt her shoulder.

He pulled something off, and held it up. "A bug. . ."

Easily, he crushed a miniature disk that had been clinging to her sweater. It was indeed there, whether she knew or not.

"I wonder how that got there," he narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

"I didn't have anything to do with that."

"Stay out of here."

 **TT**

Laura walked down towards the lunchroom, and by the front office.

"That's what happens when you run back in time, and alter reality. . ."

"How do you know that?" Tiffany asked.

"I watch the TV show," she shrugged.

Her dad suddenly walked out of the office, with a fast food bag in his hand. Everyone turned to look at the man who had a leather jacket, Rolex watch, and sunglasses on. The death of a princess pays more than you'd think.

She forced a smile. "Uh, Dad, you really didn't have to . . ."

"Ah, it was nothing. Oh, is this that nice girl Tiffany to go on about?"

"Dad!"

Tiffany poked at her teasingly. "You 'wuv' me."

"Um, thanks-for lunch," she walked off awkwardly.

Laura sighed once she was out of earshot. "So embarrassing."

"I'll take it," Tiffany offered. Laura looked at her dryly.

"It's not about the food. It's about him and my aunt treating me like a kid."

"You need to do something rebellious," Tiffany suggested.

"Like what?"

"I don't know. Stay out past curfew, sneak out to parties. Take naughty pictures and send them to high schoolers." She went on casually.

Laura slowly turned to her.

"What? My sister did it."

"Yeah, everyone knows what your sister is like," she smirked.

"Eh . . . fair enough."

They entered the lunch room, only to be spotted by Britt, the most annoying girl in school. Well, according to Laura. To everyone else she was the greatest thing to happen to this school.

"If it isn't the daddy's girl," she sneered. "You need your lunch brought to you every day?"

Laura rolled her eyes and kept walking.

"If only we had pictures of her to blackmail her with," Tiffany laughed.

"You concern me."

"I concern a lot of people."

"But, maybe you weren't wrong. About the blackmail, not the other thing," she clarified.

"Okay, blackmail her, but with what?"

 **TT**

This would be quick. In and out.

It was early into the night, and Deathstroke lurked around the back of a mansion. Despite the fact that it was early, the night was pitch black.

This particular couple failed to pay their owed protection to an associate of his. Tony Zucco. He was out of jail, and looking for his money.

It's not that they couldn't afford it, they were too stubborn, and probably didn't take Tony seriously. To be honest, he probably wouldn't have taken him seriously either. But, he could hire people who would be taken seriously.

With his wire cutters, he cut the wires too the fuse box. The house went dark in a split second. He took a grenade from his belt. He pulled the pin, and threw it through the window.

A flash of light went off, and the debris was scattered around the dining room. He walked through the giant whole in the wall. A man was crouched over a woman, and an older child. A lot had happened over the year. He didn't exactly have 'feelings'.

"Tony sent you?" He glared. "Just take it."

Tony had indeed found someone they'd take seriously. He gingerly crept over to a cabinet, and opened it revealing a large wad of cash. Apparently, the money had accumulated over the months.

"Consider this his death certificate instead."

The man looked surprised, but not at all unhappy. "Good."

That guy happened to be paying more than Tony. Honestly, he didn't care who died.

 **TT**

 **What? Oh, you're recording now? Oh uh . . .**

 **Hope you enjoyed!**

 **Do you know who Tony Zucco is?**

 **TT**


	3. Chapter 3

**Designed a cover for the story!**

 **But that was fairly obvious . . .**

 **TT**

Luke strolled confidently down the street. It was a good day. He'd just collected a bonus from one of numerous employers. People sure don't mind handing out money when their life-long nemesis abruptly 'disappears.' The birds seemed to chirp more cheerfully, the sun was shining brighter. Then it all went down the drain.

"Melissa . . . you know 'call me anytime' is just an empty gesture, right?" He answered his exploding phone.

"Look, I just want to remind you that Laura has her play tonight," she reminded him through loud speakers.

 _It's not even on speaker phone . . ._

"I know, I'll be there," he assured her. He could hear her irritation over the phone. He imagined she was mumbling something, while rubbing her temples. Most likely to soothe the headache she knew she'd have from him.

"It means a lot to her . . . "

"Didn't you force her into that?" He interrupted.

"She just need to be reminded of how much it means to her," she fixed.

"I thought she hated acting-"

"Stop interrupting! Now, will you be there or not?" She asked exasperatedly.

"Yeah, sure."

"I mean it, Luke," she said firmly. If he wanted to be lectured about his life, he'd call his mom. Crap! He was supposed to call her too . . . she worries.

"I'll be there at curtain call."

"That's at the end," She said blankly.

"Oh. Then, I'll be at whatever's before that."

"The play?"

"I'll be there at five."

 **TT**

"So, who do you play?" Tiffany asked, as she walked down the desolate halls.

"Some chick named Helen. Most beautiful woman in the world, or whatever," she shrugged.

"Wouldn't that boost your self-confidence?"

"Totally, unless, your aunt emails the director a thousand times," she scoffed.

"Well, why not just skip it?" Tiffany, the devil on her left shoulder, suggested.

"She's making me go, and if I skip rehearsal, it'll show at the play," she stressed.

"Wow, props to aunt for really jamming you in there," she chuckled.

"Mark my words: this play is going to be so-"

"Excuse me," Brady stumbled by them.

"-Awesome! Brady's a set designer?" She stared after him.

"That or he's playing Paris," Tiffany joked, then noticed her blank expression. "Helen's love interest . . ."

She stopped shrieking, when Brady walked back with poster boards.

"Set designer," she slumped.

"Or he has really bad eyesight, but he needs cue cards."

"That's it! I should use cue cards."

"Who's won't see you flipping note cards, every five minutes?" She asked incredulously.

"I could get someone to hold them at the bottom of the stage." She decided.

Tiffany exhaled exaggeratedly. "Just like that, I'm roped into a scheme."

 **TT**

Deathstroke swiftly twisted the neck, cracking it. Through all the fun, he reminded himself that he was only here for one person. One person who had people willing to protect him. A gang leader, he presumed.

Blood splattered across the wall, recoating the run down walls in crimson. Bullets flew around, ricocheting off the wall, hitting a few people by luck. The sound of the automatic firing, the noise echoing off the wall, the smell of smoke. It still gave him that rush.

He stabbed another person with a large dagger. The constant struggle of keeping your tough demeanor, by not saying a witty one-liner was there.

A gruesome, scarred man, limped out of the run down building. Deathstroke shot at him, but he ducked just in time, and got away. He wasn't the one he was looking for anyways.

He spotted the blonde man, and aimed his 9mm. He dropped to the ground swiftly. Mission complete. He stood over multiple, motionless bodies.

He looked around cautiously, making sure no one was around. He shuffled his shoulders victoriously. _Victory dance!_ He retrieved his phone and tapped casually.

 _Thirty minutes till the play!_

He ran like the wind. If the wind ever got lectured by its annoying sister.

 **TT**

Luke jumped out of his black sports car, and sped for the door. Inside, he soon found Melissa by the ticket booth.

"You're late," she reminded him.

"We still have ten minutes," he checked his watch.

"Not if we want good seats."

He peered inside at the monstrous auditorium.

"The school can't be funding this, if this many people came."

"Damian Wayne is funding it," she said informatively.

"Of course he is. Why would the CEO of Wayne Industries stoop to meddle in the affairs of peasants?" He asked with an exaggerated accent.

"Because he cares about the children, and is one of this school's highest donors anyways," a voice told them.

"Damian, I didn't know you were coming," Melissa hugged him briefly.

"I was in the area."

Luke received a sharp elbow from Melissa.

"Damian." He muttered through gritted teeth, as they shook hands stiffly. Damian had a scowl of his face, but tonight they'd just have to make it a normal night. Deathstroke and Batman would not be making their appearances.

About twenty minutes later, they were situated in the fourth row, and the play had commenced.

Luke leaned over to his sister. "Is it me, or does it look like Laura is reading something?"

"Hush."

Luke eyes kept glancing at the side of the stage. Something was moving over there. He dismissed the though without any more consideration. It moved again. He sat up, and stared keenly at it. Then it moved into the light.

The scarred man that had escaped!

" _Dirty blonde hair and scars. Kill him, and you'll get the money."_

He killed the wrong guy. How did he track him here to the play? He'd have to take him out here. To protect his daughter—and all the other kids, of course.

"To the little boy's room," he chuckled. He slinked back into the corner, and took his pistol from his jacket. He slowly aimed it, as the band kids conveniently started playing dramatic music.

If he missed, he could hit a kid, or more importantly-Laura. He didn't have a scope just his eye. He wouldn't be able to sneak up there, or backstage. He'd have to do it here.

He wiped his brow, as the pitch of the music steadily rose. A drop of sweat inched down, tormenting him. He didn't dare wipe it away.

The man reached for his own gun, and Luke knew it was now or never. He pointed it, and slowly pushed down on the trigger.

 _Bang!_

The man fell, people started screaming, ducking, and running about. All the kids on stage hectically ran off.

He breathed a sigh of relief. He promptly rejoined his sister and daughter by the door.

"I was in the bathroom, what'd I miss?"

 **TT**

"Did they even have guns in the Trojan war?" Luke joshed.

"I didn't read the play," Laura shrugged.

Melissa came from the kitchen with chips.

"So you really were just reading cards? I thought you liked acting."

"I hate acting," she said blankly.

"Why didn't you say so?"

"I did say so, multiple times!"

"Even I knew that," Luke pointed out.

"I think we can all agree on the fact that this is Aunt Melissa's fault." Laura stated.

"Very true."

Melissa just rubbed her temples agitatedly.

 **TT**

 **You know what to do!**

 **Sit down in your thinking chair and think, think, thin-n-k, cuz when you use…sorry got distracted there for a second…**

 **Tune in next time!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Next chapter**

 **Boom!**

 **That's right…the boom is back**

 **TT**

Luke and Melissa sipped tea on a brisk Saturday, enjoying one another's company. For once. The birds tweeted incessantly, and the sun shone brightly through the kitchen window.

"Those potholes almost busted up my tires," he grumbled.

"Were you going 90 on a road that was 70?" She smirked.

"That jerk wasn't going to challenged me to a street race, and get away with it," he shrugged.

"But, who's the one who got a ticket?" She was obviously satisfied with his current predicament.

"The cop was under a really low tree. How was I supposed to know he was there?"

"Oh, I don't know . . . don't speed?" She asked dimly.

"Now, that's just crazy talk."

Laura strolled in, obviously having plans. She was dressed in jeans and a Batman t-shirt.

"Nice shirt," Luke frowned.

"They sell Batman merchandise?" Melissa asked.

"No, I made it online."

"That's the 12.99 charged to my account?" He asked suspiciously.

"You left your card laying around," she pointed out.

"I got one of those fancy lamps," Melissa admitted.

"Thank you for using Bank of Luke," he said dryly.

"Where are you headed?"

"The diner. Everyone hangs out there."

"Did you clean your room?" Melissa stopped her.

"Dad pays 200 dollar tickets, but we can't get a butler?"

"It was more like 250 . . ." Melissa looked at him sternly. "Uh . . . don't speed."

With a loud huff, she trudged to her room.

"Your plans for today? Working?" He could hear an edge to her voice at the last question.

"No plans today," he answered awkwardly. "You?"

"Just house-work," she shrugged.

"We should go out today, have fun" he suggested.

"And do what? Jump from buildings and steal from gangs?"

"Like old times." He chuckled sheepishly, then noticed her bland expression.

"I think I'll stick to house-work," she said dryly.

"You can't deny we use to have fun. You know, me, you, _dad_ ," he reminded her. She couldn't stop a fond smile from creeping onto her face.

She instantly corrected herself. "I gave that up."

"Remember that time we stumbled upon the weapons room?"

"You always were a bad liar," she chuckled. He was trying to do that thing where he always made he remember the good old days. It always worked.

"And, when I disobeyed orders, and used that serum."

"You had a habit of doing that. Does it still work?"

"I'm still standing, aren't I?" He smirked coolly.

"I'm shocked."

They unexpectedly heard the door close. Laura never was great at sneaking out.

"She inherited your sneaking skills," Luke snorted.

"If she had yours, we'd be in real trouble," she shot back.

"I was a devilish rogue, wasn't I?" He stared off in the distance wistfully.

"Something like that."

 **TT**

Laura strolled into the diner, which was mostly inhabited by teenagers. The place was fairly new, but had a 80s feel to it.

She came up behind Tiffany and sat beside her at the bar.

"Make that two cokes—no three, she looks like she could use it," Tiffany called.

"I could."

"What are your plans for this week, since school is closed?"

"I don't know. Think about Brady? Like all the other days," she sighed.

"You should just talk to him," she advised.

"I could never find the right time of day," she mumbled.

"Does now work for you?" She pointed down the bar, to the boy who sat alone. He was fixed on his phone.

"His friends couldn't make it, and his mom can't pick him up yet," she told her excitedly.

"You were eavesdropping?"

"I think the answer to that is abundantly clear."

She was swiftly nudged toward her crush. He looked up suddenly at her. A small smile suddenly came to his face.

"Hi."

"Hi."

 **TT**

Luke had been pushed out the house, because apparently he was 'stopping progress.' He was bored, and he decided he may as well get some exercise. It was an unusually cloudy evening, which cast a dark glower onto Gotham. Deathstroke crouched, watching the city from the safe spot of a lofty building.

He flipped open a high-tech device, as it scanned different information. He had an appointment with a potential employer. He headed back to the abandoned subways station, and spotted his black and orange motorcycle.

He rode off, and with the help of his GPS, arrived at a small, murky shack. His bike came to a skidding halt. He glanced around, until he noticed a man standing under a lamp post. He had a bandana over his face, a black hat, and a large, shadowy overcoat.

"You Deathstroke? Here."

Deathstroke studied the picture. The boy looked about fourteen years old. Brown hair and blue eyes.

"Dead or alive, bring him here," The man picked up two cases, and showed him the contents. If this were a cartoon, the money signs in Luke's eyes would be there. Maybe a star or two would be floating over his head, as he fell backwards.

" One more thing. The name is Brady. Brady Richardson."

Putting the picture in a safe place, he hopped on his motorcycle, and sped off.

 **TT**

 **This one a little shorter but review and let me know what you think and the next one shouldn't be too long**

 **Thanks**


	5. Chapter 5

**Dear, diary—man journal! Today I build my doomsday device…**

 **Note to self…delete all this**

 **TT**

Laura fumbled with the doorknob and key. Eventually, she leisurely walked off, heading for the shiny, black car. She was somewhat late but she didn't seem to mind. She opened the door, taking the time to sweep the seat off delicately.

"Stall all you want, your still going," Her father told her. She sighed and plumped down.

"I don't feel like it," she whined at a pitch only dogs could hear.

"If I didn't go to work every time I didn't want to . . ." _Tons of more people would be alive right now._ He thought inwardly. "-Well, let's just say the world would be a worst place."

"What is your job anyways?" Laura had never been an overly curious girl, luckily for Luke. Not like Melissa used to be.

"I'm head of—international security and espionage. I can't really talk too much about my job. So, Uh, um, don't look it up, or anything," he faltered.

"Uh, okay?" She said uncertainly. "You're a spy, I get it."

"Which is why you just said that out loud?" He asked.

"Heh, sorry. So, you've been in that department for a while?"

With lots of experience, he was pretty good at dodging questions. Thanks to Melissa. "You have no idea . . ."

"When did you start?"

"When I was in my late teens," he tried to give as much truth as he could, with as little truth as he could.

"Is it fun?"

"It's fun, alright. I went undercover one time, which was actually how I met your . . . mother," he suddenly became quieter. Laura stopped asking questions, and turned her attention to the rode.

"Pollen everywhere," she sniffled, and opened up the dashboard for tissues.

"There aren't any-"

"Woah . . . you have a 9mm?" She stared in awe. He forgot he left that in there.

"How do you know what that is?"

"I play video games," she shrugged.

"Close the dashboard."

She closed it, but she was still curious. "Do you use it if enemy spies trace you?"

"I want you to forget you ever saw that, got it?"

"Fine," she huffed. He made a sharp turn, and they were in front of the school.

"One more thing. Do you know a Brady Richardson?"

"Brown hair? Dreamy eyes?"

"Uh, yeah . . .?"

"I've seen him around," she said briefly. "Why?"

"I saw his dad, and old friend of mine, the other day, and, uh, I wondered if you knew him." He briskly said goodbye, and drove off. This Brady kid was close to Laura. That would make it a lot harder.

Not mention her curiosity.

 **TT**

Luke's eyes darted across the computer screen in the bunker. He had successfully hacked Brady's phone, and now searched through anything that could lead him to Brady. He planned on taking the kid without hurting him too badly. Then again, that seemed unlikely. Why would someone pay that much for some random kid? This kid was special. For all he knew the kid could know 20 different kinds of martial arts. Or have the firepower of a small army at his disposal.

But, unfortunately for Brady, so did he.

He searched through the kid's calendar and messages. He had a date Friday night. His eyes scanned the messages he'd been texting a friend.

 **Party Friday night you in?**

 **Nah have a date.**

 **Who's the unlucky girl? LOL.**

 **Clever. Laura.**

 **Laura who?**

 **Wilson.**

 **Score bro.**

Luke had stopped reading there. There was no way Laura was going on a date with a boy who was being man-hunted. It was by him, to be fair, but that was beside the point.

He'd have to find out where. But, it'd be easy. _Get the kid, get the money, and get out before I become a witness._

There would be a few downsides to this plan. If he told Laura she couldn't go, it would just make her sneak out. If he let her go, she could get caught in the crossfire. Then it hit him.

 _Melissa!_

The phone fumbled in his hands, as he urgently pushed the dial numbers.

"Hey, I need a favor—sorry . . . how was your day? Yeah, great. I was thinking Friday night we could have a family game night. Yeah, great idea, right? So, can you get snacks? I'm, uh, broke. Any who, no matter how much it seems like Laura doesn't want to do it, trust me, she does."

Melissa could force Laura into a mediocre play, she could force Laura into anything.

 _Ah, I love when a plan comes together._

 **TT**

Luke opened the door and walked in the house.

"What's going on?" He watched all the commotion.

Melissa came over. "Luke, this is Brady. He, and Laura have plans tonight."

"I already have Uno. Not the new kind with the machine that shoots cards in your face, but the original," he pointed out.

"He's a nice kid, and besides I know his mom."

"Do you know how hard it is to find the original Uno cards these days?"

"Not very."

"Please, Dad?" Laura asked. He sighed reluctantly. This would put a dent in his masterplan.

"Not before I talk to Jimmy here."

"Brady," Melissa corrected him.

"That's what I said."

The two fellas stepped into the kitchen.

"What are your intentions with my daughter?"

"To . . . have fun?"

"Wrong answer. Be home by 9, and don't do anything you wouldn't do if I was there."

"Uh, of course, but, I'm not that kind of guy," he said defensively.

"Every guy is that kind of guy. I would know . . . I was that kind of guy!"

"Dad!" Laura called.

"I'm watching you," he told him, as he watched his daughter, with her date, walk out the door.

"They'll be fine . . . "Melissa told him, as if she could read his mind.

"I don't trust Jimmy." He stared after them suspiciously.

"Brady!"

"Jimmy, Brady, who cares?"

"Your daughter cares. Maybe, you should trust her judgement, for once," she pointed out.

He pondered these words for a brief moment. "I do-sort of, but there's something off about him."

"You just can't let your little girl go," Melissa accused him. That was half of it, the other half was the fact that the kid was wanted.

"I know how those fourteen year olds are. All curious and hormonal. . ."

"You're being dramatic."

"I am not—Oh! Now I see why dad never let you date."

 **TT**

 **Tune in next time and see how things go down…Review**

 ***Elvis Presley voice* Thank ya, thank ya very much**


	6. Chapter 6

**Dear, man journal, the doomsday machine test failed. The earth lives…for now**

 **Btw delete all of that before posting!**

 **TT**

"He brought you popcorn? The seven dollar popcorn?"

"Yes, he brought me the seven dollar popcorn," Laura mocked her father's awestruck tone.

"Even I don't buy you that."

"I know . . ." She deadpanned. They walked down the busy streets of Gotham, on a parky Saturday night.

"With all this extra money, he should be opening up a savings account. Or planning for his retirement."

"We aren't married."

"You don't have to tell me." Luke snorted.

"Seven dollar popcorn." He mumbled to himself and shook his head.

They turned onto a slightly calmer street.

"You know, in every movie-"

They were suddenly forcefully pushed into an alley.

"This happens. . ." She mumbled. Luke eyed the two men. One had a pistol the other was unarmred. The gun was pointed at him. Instinctively, he pushed Laura off to the side a bit.

"The watch and the wallet."

"Fellas, while I'd love to donate to the give-a-thug-a-chance foundation, I'm fresh out."

"Man, we can see the Rolex." The other guy with a Hispanic accent spoke up. _This what I get for trying to have nice things._ He thought bitterly.

"Now." The man growled.

"Dad . . ."

He slowly reached inside his jacket. The man seemed offset by this action. Seeing the action coming, he luckily moved to the side, but the bullet still grazed his side. He barely felt it.

He grabbed the attacker's wrist, pointed it away, and elbowed him in the face. He was knocked to the ground. Luke pointed the gun at the unarmed man. The man backed away slowly.

He led Laura out of the alley, and immediately shot behind him. He tossed the gun away nonchalantly.

"Dad, your side!"

He looked down at his side. It was a bullet hole, that he was surprised was made. It didn't hurt, but apparently left a mark.

"This was an expensive jacket. What do you think? Will blood come out?" He swiped his jacket furiously.

"You got shot!"

"Calm down, it's not serious."

"You've been shot!" She repeated frantically.

He took his jacket off, and tied his scarf around the wound, and put it back on. "It's fine.

Once they walked back to the house, he stopped her at the door.

"We don't really need to tell your aunt Melissa about this, right?"

"Yeah, totally . . ."

They walked in to see Melissa on the couch.

"Hey, how was-"

"Dad got shot!"

"What?" She shot up.

"One job, Laura, one job . . ."

"Luke, can I talk to you? _In the kitchen_."

He groaned and trudged behind Melissa into the kitchen.

"Are you crazy?"

"You'll have to be more specific." He chuckled.

"So, you took a bullet between the eyes, then what happened?"

"Calm down, it's not that serious," he sighed.

"Did you do the thing where you disarm the person then kill them anyways?" She asked dryly.

"It's self-defense."

"It's not self-defense!"

"You are blowing this way out of proportion," he said gently.

"You got shot and just walked away from it. What if she gets suspicious?"

"She won't. She thinks I'm spy," he said simply.

"Oh, and that's better?"

"What am I supposed to do? Fake my own death?"

"Well, would you?"

"Look, I can fix this whole thing," he slid over to the swinging door, and pushed through to see Laura.

"Suspicious of what?"

 **TT**

Luke walked back to the weapons room, and sat down at the computers. He began to clean different parts of his guns, until something caught his eye. _Someone_. It was Brady! Brady endlessly checked over his shoulder, as if he expected someone to jump out at him. That could also be organized. Luke swiftly left, making the decision to act now and think later.

Once he had a bird's eye view, he could pick out the victim. He saw a kid on a shorter building than his. He had a black hoodie, guns and knives, black pants, and red face paint. Didn't take a genius to know that was his guy. Taking out his AR-15, he slowly aimed it, resting it into his shoulder area. He'd deal a non-fatal blow then just bring the kid to the employer. Or he'd underestimate himself and take the kid out right here, right now. This could go either way.

He calmed himself, and looked into the scope. This was it. _Think about the money._

This was for the mother of all money everywhere.

 _Buzz!_

The phone vibrated against him loudly. Why does he even bring it? He turn and sat under the ledge, and retrieved it. _No! I don't want the left over enchilada!_ He thought angrily as he tapped furiously. But, it simply came onto the screen as 'no'. He put it back into a small pocket on his belt. He resumed his position. But much to his irritation, the kid was gone!

He groaned in annoyance, and turned to leave. . .

Why is this guy everywhere? You'd think he'd have better things to do with his time.

"This ends here." The Dark knight declared.

"Au contraire."

He fired the rifle at Batman, who took cover behind the square structure that held the door. Suddenly, Batman flung small metallic balls. They exploded, blinding him, and covering the area in smoke. He felt a sharp kick to the chest, and the world was grabbed from beneath him. He felt the open air, like those nature documentaries, with the baby bird. The bird had plenty of time to learn how to fly.

Except this baby bird had two minutes. He hit the ground with a hard thud. He dazedly saw a figure glide down at his vision was blurred.

"She put you up to this?" He coughed, as he tried to regain himself. He was extremely tolerable, but falling from a building like that . . . yeah, it'd do a number on you.

"She asked me to look the other way, just this once." He slapped handcuffs on the assassin with a stern expression.

"I said no."

 **TT**

Laura took in her surroundings. This was a weird place. It was like a secret base! She followed her father in here, after the mysterious stuff that had been happening. She knew her father was a spy, but she never expected for him to have his own secret base. Earlier, she barely hid in time, as her father rushed out. She went in a room, and heard his fumbling around. Sounded like he was changing or something.

But, she decided to take this time to explore. She went into a back room, and noticed the wall. A secret passage! He must've left it opened as he rushed out. She went inside, and gasped in awe. She'd never seen so many weapons in one place. She saw a shiny plaque with the name 'Jay Wilson' engraved. Her grandfather, she instantly recognized. She'd heard stories, about how he was always risking his life for others, and his children. A law enforcement officer, she presumed.

She pranced over to the all the different computer screens. Cameras all around the city. She watched the city in motion, as she gingerly pressed a button, and one changed. She continued this until she was changing them rapidly. She suddenly stopped, when she saw something.

Her dad! And Batman! He sat in handcuffs, in battle armor, in an alley. She had to help him! She looked around frantically for something to use. Luckily, she spotted a metal staff. She took it, and ran.

Once she was there, she peered around the side of the building. She admired Batman, she really did, but she had to help her dad. She took the pistol, she also nabbed, from her pocket. She shot it in the air a few times. Batman's attention turned, as she suddenly ran up, swinging the staff madly. He dodged most of them, but caught it. She froze.

"Run!" She snapped her father out of his shocked state. He slid, kicked the back of Batman's knee, and then turned. He jumped from the dumpster to the fire escape, and to the roof.

"Uh, I can't do all that so-"Laura quickly ran up the stairs.

"Dad, what is going on?"

"Get on." He kneeled down, as she climbed onto his back.

"Don't let go for anything."

"Ok—uh, what are you going to do?"

He shot a grappling hook away and flew off. He picked a good day to bring it.

Batman, ready with a batarang, decided against it. He couldn't risk hurting the kid.

Next time, he wouldn't be so lucky.

 **TT**

"Are you ok?" Laura asked, as she watched him patch up his wounds.

"I'm fine," he tied the bandage, with her help. He picked up a syringe.

"What's that for?"

"You. Sorry." He injected it into her arm. She fell unconscious, as he caught her in time.

He had to get her home, before Melissa found out. After a short drive, and change, he carried her to her room. She put her in her bed, and rested the covers over her. As he crept out, he came face to face with an infuriated Melissa.

"I'll explain tomorrow, just act like she's been asleep here the whole night."

"You are going to be the death of me."

 **TT**

 **Review, follow, favorite**

 **And yes . . . in that order :3**


	7. Chapter 7

**This thing on…? I see a blinking light…**

 **TT**

"She's coming, act natural." Luke whispered, as he quickly looked at the tv.

"I can see she's coming," Melissa deadpanned. Suddenly, Laura swayed down the stairs.

"I had the weirdest dream last night. Dad was a ninja, and he fought Batman."

"Ninja? Maybe . . ." he smirked, but received a look from Melissa.

"It felt real though," she rubbed her head.

"Of course it wasn't real . . ." Melissa forced an awkward chuckle.

"I know. Besides, Dad could never fight Batman," she laughed. Luke immediately straightened up.

"What do you mean I couldn't fight Batman?"

"Let it go, Luke," Melissa mumbled. He grumbled under his breath, and turned to scowl at the TV.

Laura made her way into the kitchen in search of some remedy for her aching body.

"Let's go for a walk," Melissa randomly suggested, in a way that made it seem like it wasn't a suggestion.

"Aw, great," he sighed.

"Laura, we'll be back later."

They exited the house, and walked down the calm street. The sun peeked from behind the clouds, as the birds flew overhead. A slight breeze ruffled their hair.

"Well . . . you're officially . . . crazy," she said casually.

"You brought me out here to state the obvious?"

"I brought you out here to talk to you. This is getting dangerous."

"What is?"

"Everything. Laura is going to find out everything sooner or later. Or get caught in the middle."

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying you should put down the sword—for good."

"Did he put you up to this?"

"No, I'm just saying Laura deserves a normal life," she replied, as her phone rang. She quickly denied it.

"Who was that? Lord Wayne?"

"Oh, stop," she rolled her eyes. She failed to mention it actually was him.

"Why are you working with him anyways?" He asked her with a stern expression.

"I'm not." She rubbed her neck.

"Look, I know you are, and sooner or later you'll have to ask yourself an important question . . ."

"What question?" She had a bad feeling about this.

"Are you a Wayne or a Wilson?"

 **TT**

 _ **Fourteen years ago.**_

 **Luke pressed himself together, as he climbed the snowy slope. To be honest, he wasn't completely sure where he was in the world.**

 **All he could see were snowy mountains. He didn't know where he was, but he knew where he was going. He looked into the sky, to see smoke arising from one particular place. He was close! He picked up the pace into a jog, but not without slipping a few times. He laid on the cold snow, looking up at a chipmunk who stared at him from a tree.**

" **Alvin," he chuckled quietly to himself. He took a minute to take in the scene of the powdery flakes covering the landscape. He inhaled the cold hair deeply. When he looked up, a barrel was there.**

" **Who knew I could get mugged in the middle of nowhere," he mumbled dryly.**

" **Who are you?" A harsh voice asked. The pistol was stilled aimed at him.**

 **He gasped sharply. "Are you Slade Wilson?"**

" **No."**

 **He slowly rose to his feet to take in the man. White hair, one eye, strong build. Rose had described him one time. It took a lot of hacking and bribing to get a location. But, he finally found him.**

" **I know who you are, but I come in peace," he assured him.**

" **Now you better be going in peace, while you still can."**

 **He couldn't contain himself any longer. "You're Slade Wilson! You're Deathstroke!"**

" **Not anymore. Who are you anyways?" He asked suspiciously.**

" **I'm your grandson," he beamed.**

" **Rose had a kid?"**

" **No, Jay did."**

 **He grumbled something under his breath, then asked. "What do you want?"**

 **Luke smoothened his jacket, and cleared his throat. "I want you to train me to become Deathstroke."**

" **You think you can put on the armor, and simply become Deathstroke? You think it's that easy?" He advanced towards him.**

" **No-I-uh . . ." he fumbled.**

" **It takes a skills, skills you will never acquire," he glared at him.**

" **I need you to teach me," he pleaded.**

" **You don't have what it takes," he turned to leave.**

" **Grandfather . . .?"**

" **Go home, kid."**

 _ **Worth a shot.**_

" **Teach me . . ."He paused for a brief second "and I. . . I will kill Batman!"**

 **He froze. Seconds felt like days. Days felt like an eternity.**

" **Do it, and the legacy will continue. Do it and your greatest enemy will be defeated," Luke reasoned.**

 **He turned to look Luke dead in the eye. "This will be the worst experience of your life."**

" **I can handle it."**

 **For the first time, Luke heard him chuckle. It unsettled him greatly.**

" **That's what you think."**

 **TT**

Silence fell upon the earth. As if she were actually contemplating the question! She chewed on her lip awkwardly.

"You're actually thinking about it," he accused.

"N-no, I'm a Wilson, but what does that even mean?" She asked uncertainly.

He looked ahead of him, as everything seemed to quiet down. No birds, no rustling of the trees. Just grave silence.

"It means you look out for each other," he declared. "Even when others don't want you to."

"I can't lie to him forever," she pointed out.

"Dad wanted us to take care of each other . . ."

"No! You do not get to put that on me! How do you think I feel? One of you is always asking about the other, and I'm done with it."

"If he-"

"If he catches you, he does. If he doesn't, then he doesn't, but whatever happens is your choice, and your fault."

 **TT**

It had to be done. It was time to fulfill his promise. He had to kill Batman. He'd been a pain in his side for too long. He'd need a few things and favors. It would take him a while, but he'd get it done.

He drove his motorcycle across a large strip of land, behind multiple buildings, that blocked out light from the city. It was a dark wasteland back there. Although, not completely uninhabited.

He spun to the side as he stopped suddenly in front of a group of people. One tall, dark man stepped out in front of all the rest.

"No business for you today. Move along."

"For once, I have a proposition for you. How'd you like to cause some trouble for a certain bat?"

Everyone else murmured their acceptance of the challenge. But, the leader shook his head.

"Not now, we got some other stuff going on."

"War?"

"What's it to you?"

"I'll help you. You help me."

"No."

"You, of all people, know what I can do."

". . .Deal."

 **TT**


	8. Chapter 8

**Yeah…I got nothing…**

 **TT**

"It's just for a few days, maybe a week," He assured Melissa.

"A business trip?" She asked skeptically. He tossed a few loose items into his suitcase as Melissa stared disapprovingly from afar.

"Something about the human resources department. But, if you ask me seems like its robots taking all the jobs. Maybe we should call it robotic resources de-"

"Where are you really going?" She interrupted his ramble. He zipped up the suit case, and turned to look at her.

". . . Lotion!" He rushed into the bathroom. She groaned in aggravation.

He reentered the room casually. "A robot would be interviewing you like 'what is your operating number?'"

"Where is this business trip?"

"It's at a hotel, and I'm staying at a hotel, two totally different hotels—don't call either," he spoke quickly, and he hurriedly looked around for his jacket.

"I hope you aren't planning on doing anything stupid . . ." she leaned against the doorpost.

"I know me and professional places don't mix, but that was a dare."

"You know what I mean," she knew he was doing that thing when he blabbered until she was sick of him. It wouldn't work this time.

"Beats me," he shrugged. "Love to stay and talk, but robots are stealing my job as we speak."

He rushed down the stairs, and towards the door. Once he said his goodbye's to everyone he was out the door.

 _And that is how you talk your way out of anything._ He thought smugly. He got in his car, and drove. He actually wasn't actually planning to just get a hotel, but he was going to do his business. Just, his more _important_ business.

 **TT**

Deathstroke stood on top of an abnormally tall building. The view of the long drop was sickening. Well, to anyone who wasn't him. He attached a large metallic sphere to the vent. It was an unusually sunny day, which was even starting to get to him. Using the rope attached. He jumped off the side, and slid down the side of the building. Using a high-powered laser pointer, he cut a hole into the glass. He swung in and landed on his feet.

Security guards ran at him. He shot one, then another. He instinctively took out his sword and stabbed behind him.

He rounded the corner and continued down the hallway. He peered around a corner to see a group of guards. He took his assault rifle, and shot as he slowly walked sideways to the other side. The survivors ran towards him, but he hunkered down by the side. As they rounded the corner, he took them out quickly.

He continued, but suddenly stopped at a door, peering in the window. There was a large, complicated supercomputer inside. It had a large screen that took up a wall. He kicked it in to see one young adult female sitting at a computer. She had thick glasses, brown hair, and a plaid shirt.

"Deathstroke?"

Weird. Usually people didn't know who he was.

"I used to hear about your fights with Batman as a kid. You were legendary."

He had to admit, his grandfather was pretty legendary. He proceeded to the computer.

"Uh, that's actually confidential . . . but you have a gun, so I'll just shut up now. . ."

Deathstroke returned the pistol, and typed away.

"I never had many friends as a kid," she randomly started with a chuckle. "But, I guess you understand that, I mean, you're an assassin!"

Ignoring the fangirl, he scanned the information, immediately finding it useful. He downloaded it, removing the flash drive.

"Not to be the bearer of bad news, but guards will be here shortly."

"How?"

"Any unauthorized removed information triggers a silent alarm. Curse my tech expertise!"

"Disable it."

"It's complicated and-Oh it also uploads a virus . . . crazy, huh?" She snickered. He'd need this information later, which means he'd need him to disable everything later.

"You're coming with me."

"Tomorrow is the company picnic, they usually don't invite me-"

He opened the door, and she didn't need to be told to follow. Going a different way, he stopped at the corner. He shot down the hall, as she ran up.

"Why'd you stop?" She strayed out. He yanked her back, as a bullet flew overhead. Once it was clear, they proceeded to the elevator.

"I'm Angie . . . how are you?" She asked casually "You know, I don't usually get this much excitement. And this isn't the best job, so-"

"Stop talking."

"Right. . ."

He punched a man who stood in the way, and they both ran out. He hopped on the motorcycle.

She stopped suddenly. "Do you have a helmet?"

He revved the engine and she hopped on. He sped off, quickly turning down an alley, as police cars raced by. He put a hood over her head, and drove the rest of the way.

He took the hood off inside the bunker.

"Smells like tuna in there," she took a long breath.

"Get to work."

She took the flash drive and started typing, as he went into a back room. He wasn't worried about her escaping. He had to fight that gang war tonight. He was looking forwards to it.

"Done." She called. He reentered the room.

"That fast? You said it was complicated."

"I did make the program. Guess you kidnapped me for nothing," she chuckled awkwardly.

"Let's go."

"Wait . . . You make lots of money after a contract, I have a lame job. So, hire me to be your IT person! I could build you gadgets and stuff!" She squealed excitedly. He shook his head.

"Come on, just give me a trial run . . ."

He contemplated this for a few long moments. Things would run smoother with someone like how Marie was around. He could use some upgrades.

"What are you doing tonight . . .?" She snapped him out of his thoughts.

"Gang war."

She obviously wasn't going to stop asking. "I could do some really useful things."

"Fine, but whether you stay or not depends on tonight."

"Can I start with your helmet . . .?"

What did it matter? If she blew his cover, he'd just assassinate her anyways. He took it off, and gave it to her.

"I thought you'd be older. Huh."

"I'm not the first Deathstroke."

"Oh, so did you have brothers who you fought with over the mantle," she smirked. He wouldn't have let Melissa take it. That'd just be weird.

"Hurry up."

 **TT**

Deathstroke peered over the edge of a building. He stared down into the dark alley where the turf war would be held.

" _Pretty Eagle to Deathstroke, come in."_ He heard in the, recently installed, earpiece.

"Codenames? Really?"

" _Just go with it."_

He sighed. He hoped he wouldn't regret this. "Pretty eagle, what's it like down there? It's too foggy up here."

" _I can hack into the satellite feed and check."_

Okay, maybe she'd be kind of useful.

" _Also, I installed a thermal scan inside your helmet, and a camera in the other side, so I can see what you see. Err-in a not weird kind of way."_

He pressed the side of hishelmet, and the lens glowed red as he looked down. He could see red and green moving objects. They were his allies. They were all armed and ready. He took his gun, and aimed it at the other side. He peered into the scope, as he waited. Something felt off.

" _They're coming around the back! Pretty Eagle to Deathstroke, it's all going down!"_

He rolled over to the other side, and aimed the assault rifle. It wasn't a sniper but it served its purpose. He sniped multiple people, which set off his allies. The war had begun.

Lights flashed as guns went off, and bullets scattered everywhere. He slid down the wall, and joined his allies. It was the loud sounds of bullets ricocheting off the pavement, and buildings. Dodging bullets, he advanced to the front lines, and drew his sword. A few moments later their whole front line was down.

" _Oh, you're good . . ."_

He shifted over to the trees, and snuck around them to the back, not resisting the temptation to shoot a few down. He creeped up behind the leader, and held him his elbow around his neck. Not to mention the knife in his other hand.

Everyone seemed to stop.

"Call them off."

"There will always be people to take over after me. And you can't fight for those cowards forever."

"You're right." Deathstroke swiftly slit his throat. The leader dropped to the ground. He put a foot on the lifeless body.

"I'm taking over."

One guy, who he assumed would be the next leader, advanced towards him. He was swiftly shot down.

"Any more questions?"

He walked through the gang, and over to the other one. He stopped at the leader.

"How do you like the newly formed Death gang?"

"This wasn't part of the deal."

"They won't be a problem for you anymore, I just need a second in command. Preferably one from your gang."

"Take Sheila. But, be careful about her." He seemed more than happy to get rid of her, Deathstroke noticed. It was a raven-haired girl with a black jumpsuit, and numerous weapons.

"You're in charge when I'm away. Take them to the old train station."

With that, he rode his motorcycle away into the night.

 **TT**

"You are as crazy as you are awesome," Angie declared as he walked back into base.

"You did well," he admitted. "You should stick around for a while.

He'd need eyes in the sky. Especially with the biggest plan of his. Batman had better watch out.

He was coming.

 **TT**

 **I…nope still nothing…**

Hh


	9. Chapter 9

**I got it! . . . No wait I lost it again…**

 **TT**

With a loud creak the door of a jet was slowly opened. Sheila crept in, armed and ready. She stood to the side of the cockpit as the door slowly opened. As soon as it opened she opened fire on the pilot.

"Are you done yet?" Deathstroke glared at her.

"Are you crazy? This is a government jet!"

"Yes, and I know." He opened a cargo crate. Multiple crates had ak47's in them, which had been spray painted black and orange. Even Sheila seemed impressed. It didn't show for long.

"It was risky and stupid."

"Why do you think I did it?" He beckoned some people to come get the crates. "Pistols and knives aren't going to help anything."

He climbed down and crossed the field to the train station. It was an old building secluded from the city, used before subways. It made for a nice hideout.

He opened the large doors to his gang. He wasn't sure how long he'd use them. After the death of Batman, he may just give them to Sheila. But, he'd cross that bridge when he got there.

He jumped up to a large beam, as he looked down on everyone.

"I have a plan to kill the Bat himself." He stopped to let the people hoot and holler.

"What's your plan genius?" Sheila asked.

"I'll tell you that once it's time. For now, I've taken the liberty to upgrade the arsenal." He declared as the crates were brought into the center area.

"The bank on the 45th is closing. With that money, I have some sellers who'll give us anything from bombs to helicopters."

The gang seemed to be warming up to him. They'd definitely serve their purpose.

 **TT**

It was a stormy evening, as Melissa watched the news. She flipped aimlessly, but one channel stopped her. Bank robbery with dangerously armed men.

"The police said all they had to identify the men where their black and orange ski mask." The woman reported.

Could it be connected? He left for a few days, yet some bank robbers on the TV are flashing his colors. She tried to convince herself that it wasn't true, but it wasn't nearly as easy as she thought it'd be.

Did he really hire people to rob a bank for him? She wouldn't put it past him, that's for sure. She glanced at the clock, and suddenly remembered she was supposed to have dinner with Damian. She couldn't tell if it'd be dinner or an interrogation. There was no way they'd sit there all night without the subject of Luke coming up. Worst come to worst, she'd have to bawl her eyes out while pretending to have amnesia. That would be plan B.

Plan A? She sighed. Go to the dinner.

After an hour of primping and preening, she found a simple, yet sparkly red dress. She stood at the door, briefing Laura continuously.

"There's pasta in the fridge, if you need anything just call. And I mean _anything_ " Melissa would take any excuse to have to rush home.

"Do I need to fake a cough again?" Laura smirked. A black limo pulled up.

"It's too late now."

"Enjoy your date night," Laura smirked, knowing her reply would be the same.

"It's not a date night."

" _It's not a date night."_

She watched her go, desperately hoping she'd bring back steak. But, however she got out her phone and texted eagerly.

 **TT**

Deathstroke totaled the money they'd recently acquired. Few thousand. Not bad.

"Some of these idiots were spotted," Sheila reported.

"Good."

"Good?"

"Strikes fear into people. That's always useful." He reloaded his variety of firearms. He walked off as she glared from behind him. He hopped on his black and orange motorcycle, and sped back towards town. Once there, he parked his bike, and proceeded on foot. He peered down over the city. Then, he saw it.

Brady _and_ Laura. Were those two ever apart? This would be a lot easier without her around. She turned into a store, as Brady waited outside. Now was his chance.

He jumped down between two tall buildings, as Brady stood in front of them. Eerie silence fell as he crept up on him. Luckily, Brady glanced around, before ducking out of the way right before being grabbed. You'd be surprised how much people don't see in that city.

He ducked under him, took the pistol from Deathstroke's holder, and shot him multiple times. Certain that the armor protected him, he grabbed the gun, and pushed the kid to the wall. The boy fought valiantly, managing to kick his leg out from under him. He took his sword, and hit the assassin in the head with the handle. He quickly escaped, as Deathstroke shook his head.

" _Beat by a kid? Not going to lie . . . this kind of lowers my opinion of you."_

"I wasn't trying, I was stalling. Did you do your facial recognition thing?"

" _Yep. I got an address."_

 **TT**

Laura unlocked the door, as she opened it letting in her two friends. She had a fun night with Brady, and somehow Tiffany found them and tagged along.

"What movie should we watch?"

"Zombie Taxidermy."

"Weeping Willow."

They both looked at Brady.

"Uh, Silver Knight is a good movie," he rubbed his neck awkwardly.

"Silver Knight it is," Laura decided as she reached for the DVD.

"Seriously?" Tiffany scoffed.

"It's not a great movie. The animals were never dead anyways."

"That like live animal taxidermy?" Brady cringed.

"Yeah, and-"

"Look, it's on," Laura interrupted loudly. They got situated as Brady and Laura sat together, Tiffany came over and took the opportunity to sit between them.

"Don't try anything, my best friend is right there . . ."

Laura snickered at Brady's uncomfortable expression. About fifteen minutes later, she convinced Tiffany to go get some chips. She slid over, closer to her—well whatever he was to her. Tiffany walked out holding a container.

"This dip is so good!" She exclaimed.

"That's caviar! It's really expensive," she leap over to lift the glass container from her hands. "My aunt got it at that steak place downtown."

"Whatever it is, it taste good with chips," Tiffany took one last dip. "She'd be pretty mad if she found out I was eating her fancy salsa."

The light was suddenly turned on, and the door, closed.

"I'm sure she would be."

 **TT**

Brady stood at his porch as he waved awkwardly to Laura's aunt. He knew his mother would be called in the morning. He watched as she drove off. He proceeded to slip around the side of the house, climbing up his dad's ladder he left. He touched the window as if it were a ticking time bomb. Raising it ever so delicately, he climbed in. He turned on the dim lamp.

The one-eyed assassin leaned against the door.

"You're coming with me."

 **TT**

 **I finally got it! But . . . now that I think it about . . . it just sounds dumb.**


	10. Chapter 10

**Yep . . . lots of free time these days . . .**

 **TT**

A hood was yanked off Brady's head, as he took in his surroundings. A dark room, which was set off of a bigger area. He was tied to a chair, there was a light over him, but that was about it.

"We're kidnapping kids now? That's cute." He heard a feministic voice say.

"You'd want this one."

Deathstroke stepped into the light, as he glared up at him. He tried shaking his hands free, but it was no use.

"You're being hunted."

"Apparently."

"Why are you being hunted?"

"How would I know, stupid?"

"Who are you?"

"Just a normal kid."

"Are normal kids midnight vigilantes?"

"Apparently you were." He shrugged.

"Taser." Deathstroke said as Sheila exited.

"She like your girlfriend or something? Hot fiancé?"

She came back in with a Taser in hand.

"If you don't want it to get any worse than this, I suggest you talk," Deathstroke said as he upped the voltage.

"Do your worse."

"I was already planning too."

 **TT**

Laura set out on her bike, riding as quickly as she could. Anywhere to get her away from another lecture, was a good place.

She rode as best as she could from memory. She was convinced that place in her dream was real. She could remember the subway station, how it was in a wide space between two buildings. Off of a street . . .

 _Jefferson—Washington . . . Lincoln!_

She turned down the street, making a sharp right, and there it was. Covered with construction tape. She rested her bike against the railing, and stepped over the tape. It was dark and dusty down there, but she eventually stumbled upon a hatch. Literally.

She picked herself up with a groan. This was from her dream! She tugged on the hatch, but it didn't budge. It demanded a voice recognition password.

"Laura is awesome?" She tried to lift it again. She could guess her dad wasn't actually the ninja guy. She tugged with all her might, until it finally opened.

Some girl climbed up, and fidgeting with the box she tried to carry. Laura hid up against the wall, as she turned down the opposite direction. She quietly held the latch from closing, and slipped in. Subsequently missing the ladder, she plummeted to the ground.

"Why?" She moaned. She quickly rose and took her in surroundings. It was the exact same place! The same giant computer which she crept over to. She looked at all the buttons, and with curiosity winning the battle, decided to press one.

An image flashed onto the screen. It was a camera of some sort. She could see a teenager. He had bruises and cuts, but when he looked up . . . it was Brady! This masked man had been torturing him. She had to help him.

"Ok, ok! If I go there, I could get captured. But, if I don't Brady could die. I can't go like this, they'd be able to find me. Ugh! This is so conflicting!"

She paced into a back room, and opened it. Maybe they had something that she could conceal her identity with. She opened a dusty drawer to see a black and orange suit. With a sword symbol on it.

 _Too flashy . . ._

She opened the one behind it to see a black hoodie-looking garment. And a red domino mask. She found some black pants, figuring it would be quieter to sneak around in. She hooked a utility belt around her waist.

She examined herself in the mirror. "Oh, I look good . . ."

She scurried back into the weapons room. The plaque of Jay Wilson was still there. All this had to be related to her somehow.

She looked around frantically for a weapon. She picked up an Uzi and a large dagger off holders on the wall. This place was awesome! She slipped the dagger into a leg sheath, which she had picked up. Heading back to the main area, she fiddled with buttons, until she found a GPS signal. The old train station outside of Gotham. Only the 'bravest' kids would go there. Brave/stupid, the line is blurred for some.

She had to get there, and fast. She walked off the left, to see a black motorcycle there. This would do nicely.

Apparently, there was a mechanism that rose the platform with the bikes up onto an alley. The drive to the station was on a quiet road, so she really had time to think of a plan. Ok, she didn't have a plan. She'd just have to run in there, hold the gun sideways and go all gangsta.

But, if this guy is anything like in the dream, he's armored way more than she is. So, a stealth mission may be more appropriate. She spotted the station, but quickly veered onto the grass, and stopped behind it. She hopped off, and slinked up to the back door. Suddenly, two men walked out.

"Who is that?"

"Probably one of those Bat-freaks, just kill her."

"I don't know man, if she is, ain't going to be long before Batman is here."

She was frozen with fear, before remembering she had a gun too. Before he could shoot his, she shot hers at both of them, with a surprising amount of accuracy.

She dragged them behind the bushes, and left them there. She searched her belt for something useful, then she noticed a rope with a hook on the end. Twirling it a few times, she hurled it at a pole on the roof. She really hoped this would hold. The evening was arising, and she couldn't be here forever.

She peered down into the skylight dome. It was an entire gang! She guesstimated it was about 20-30 people. She couldn't take on all of them. Scanning the area, she spotted a room, and since it was the only room, it had to be there. She slid down, and dashed over to the other side. A boarded up window was her only way in. It had two pieces of wood making an X across it. She peered in over the wood, to see it was clear. Her knife was her only hope.

She vigorously sawed at the piece of wood, going as fast as she could, as quietly as she could. Eventually, she managed to saw about halfway through it, and yanked on it, until it broke. She wiggled under the other board, finally making it in.

"Phew!" She exclaimed, but quickly lowered her voice.

"Who are you?"

She removed the hood and the mask.

"What are you doing here?" He asked in a hush whisper.

"Saving you," she put on her mask, as she toyed with the rope. Finally, he was untied, as he rose to his feet, popping his bones.

"My girlfriend's a superhero," he chuckled.

Her cheeks burned a bright red. "I-I'm your-"

"Where do you two think you're going?" Deathstroke stood at the door. He gazed at the girl, with a look of confusion, inside the mask. Did she look like—.

 _Was that . . .? No, it can't be . . . Laura!_

She aimed the Uzi at him. "Back away slowly."

He couldn't risk anyone else hurting her, or her hurting herself. He back up out of the room. Brady climbed through, as Laura still had the gun pointed at him. She gingerly climbed through herself, as they both bolted for the bike.

She revved the engine, as she zoomed off. He watched with a stoic expression.

This would not be good.

 **TT**

She drove the bike, turning down the first alley she could find. She wasn't sure she was completely 'qualified' to drive this motorcycle. She hopped off as she climbed to sit on a dumpster.

"What did they want you for?"

He rubbed his sore neck. "Uh-I don't know."

"Well, he'll be back. We have to stop him."

"Like me and you?"

"Who else?"

"I don't know? Batman?"

"We can't wait that long. He probably has a waiting list of villains and stuff."

"I don't know . . ."

"It'll be fun. Please?" She made puppy dog eyes.

He finally gave in. Resisting the puppy dog eyes was hopeless.

"Let's go."

"Where?"

"You'll see."

Brady was able to hack the security system as they climbed down into the bunker.

"This is his base?"

"I'm pretty sure," she said uncertainly.

"There's tons of stuff here, weapons, costumes, motorcycles."

"Woah." Brady breathed out, as he explored the place.

In the other room, he picked up a primarily black suit with an S on it.

"Seems big. . ."

They went into the other room, and looked through the drawer. He found a gray leather jacket.

"I have an idea."

A few long moments later, Brady came out. He had the jacket on, with a shirt underneath with the S on it. He had a mask tied around his head.

"I cut it so that it's just a sleeveless shirt."

"That is really cool," she gushed.

"Thanks," he smirked.

They went back into the weapons room, to gear up. Brady chose twin pistols, and Laura kept what she had.

"Let's go to the computer," Laura suggested. Once they were there, she pressed the button she pressed earlier. They were on camera. At least their backs were.

"This can't be right—oh," Laura gingerly turned around. Deathstroke glared at them, until catching a glimpse of something far worse. How dare he put on that symbol!

Rage engulfed him, as he drew his sword. He was going to kill this kid here and now. He advanced, blocked a shot with his sword.

He sliced near his head, as he ducked here and there. He cornered him, and sliced the gun out of his hand. He grunted in pain at the cut on his hand. He picked him up by the throat.

Suddenly, Laura jumped onto his back, and sunk the dagger into a crevice of the armor, pushing deeper until she met skin. He release Brady who kicked him back to the wall. They sprinted for the raising platform. Deathstroke shot after them, but they were already up.

At first it was about the money, but not anymore. This was war, and Laura just put herself in the middle.

 **TT**

 **I really wish I had something important to say right now . . .**


	11. Chapter 11

**Down boy! Sorry about this unruly procrastination! Where is that newspaper?**

 **TT**

Time had stopped. It felt like there was no air. Like space, and everyone was floating inside of a dark, meaningless abyss. Like there was only a bubble around them where the laws of the universe still applied. Everyone outside didn't matter.

Deathstroke had the gun pointed at her head. Just killing the kid wouldn't be enough. He'd torture him. Emotionally. The dark house, was cold, as someone waited for the other to make the next move.

"Mom . . . it's going to be okay," Brady said cautiously. An exhausted Laura watched from the back wall. She gently touched her aching leg.

"Brady, I love you."

"This doesn't concern her, leave her out of this!"

"You brought this upon her. This will forever be your fault."

"Don't do this," He tried to force his voice to be firm, but it came out lower than he had expected.

"You lose, kid."

He pulled the trigger, as she hit the ground with a thud. Brady ran up, and fell to his knees. He mumbled incoherent words as tears streamed down his hate-filled eyes.

"You'll pay for this," he growled in a hoarse whisper. Deathstroke walked out the door, and disappeared into the wind.

Laura came to his side. She put a warming arm around him.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

"This is my fault," he hung his in defeat.

"It's _his_ fault."

His brow furrowed in determination. "I'm going to find him. And when I do, everyone who ever loved him will die."

 **TT**

Twelve _hours earlier_

Luke opened the door, pushing his bags inside. He quickly dropped them as he was engulfed with hugs.

"How was it?" Melissa asked.

"Productive. Aside from a few surprises."

"Like what?" Laura asked curiously. He forced a frown from coming onto his face. He rubbed the back of his head, and swayed over to the couch.

"Just saw a few people I didn't expect, that's for sure," he said with an absent expression. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes, reflecting upon the past week.

"Your father probably wants to get some rest," Melissa gestured her out of the room.

"One thing more thing. Saw on the news some armed robbers who seemed connected to Deathstroke."

"How would I know anything about that?"

"You wouldn't," she left the room with an unconvinced expression. Laura was getting too close. And this Brady kid was becoming a problem.

A problem that had to be dealt with very soon.

 **TT**

Luke stood in the training room. He loading the handgun, as he resumed his target practice. Within all the targets had noticeable holes in them. He threw the gun aside and walked out. He walked around the vacant bunker. He sighed.

Things were getting more intense every day. He walked vacuously into the back room. He used to be able to count on the secrecy of his double life. There was Luke and there was Deathstroke. The lines had become blurred lately. This was no normal kid he was dealing with. How was he fueled to do whatever it takes to get this kid? He liked to convince himself it was the money.

He plopped down, and sunk into the chair.

"The two people I need the most and I don't have them."

He looked at the two pictures. One was him holding his phone, taking a picture of himself while Tori tied two guys up. The other was him taking a picture, with his father in the background, with a man hanging upside down.

He took his father for granted. He always knew what to do, how to do it, why to do it. And here he was . . . trying to tread the line between becoming his father and his grandfather.

The kid was too close to Laura. They even work together now! Brady being killed on the job would make more sense than some unexplained death. He had to make it look good so it'd seem like he had a heroic death.

That'd be easy enough.

 **TT**

Laura jumped across an alley, successfully making it onto the next building. Brady made it with an ungraceful tumble.

"How did you do all that?" He looked back at all the buildings they crossed.

"I took gymnastics," she shrugged indifferently. He nodded stiffly. _Note to self: take gymnastics._

"Hey! We needs names," she said suddenly.

"Laura, Brady. Catchy, huh?" He chuckled.

"Like superhero names. Yours has to be something with an S," She pointed out.

"How about Shadow? Eh?"

"Cliché, but okay," she giggled.

"Shade?"

"Better," she approved. "I'll be Scarlet."

"Okay, you win."

"Course I do." She ran, jumped off and swung. He exhaled tiredly and followed.

 **TT**

Deathstroke watched the happy couple. He spoke into the communicator.

"Hey pops that fuse box is rigged with the explosives. I suggest you pay or the place blows."

"You're bluffing."

"Am I?"

It sounded like he was trying to read the assassin's voice for clues. He loaded his gun.

A few FBI drove up to the building. "You pay, I take out the FBI agents. You don't, they all go up in flames."

"I'm not paying anything!"

"Tick tock."

"You wouldn't do that."

"Goodbye." He cut the line. He was sick of hearing that guy. Pushing a rectangular button, he could hear a faint beeping. Suddenly, someone landed behind him. _If this is Batman . . ._

 _Of course._

"And you are?"

"Scarlet. Which is the color the ground will be after I'm done with you."

 _Yikes . . . where did she learn all this hostility . . .?_

"What's your plan? You distract me while your friend tries to snipe me with a pistol?" He turned to the other rooftop, as Brady ducked down.

Scarlet rushed at him, as he moved out the way, and tripped her. He jumped down landing beside his motorcycle, and drove off. Brady and Laura rushed to theirs, and followed him. Brady sped after him, out of the city and down a long road. Laura shot at him from behind, and Deathstroke could feel the bullets ricocheting off of his armor. The bullets jerked him forward a bit.

They noticed that they were near the suburban area, as he made sharp twist and turns. He suddenly stopped, and turned, skidding onto the grass of a house. They got off and Brady ran up to him, jumping and kicking him in the face. He hit the door of the house, and it was unexpectedly knocked open.

He dodged kicks from Laura, and delivered one to her leg, and kicked her over the wall. Suddenly, a woman came out, as he recognized Brady's mom.

He grabbed her, as Brady suddenly stopped from firing. Deathstroke retrieved his pistol. He'd brought this on himself.

 **TT**

Luke slipped on his dark sunglasses, as they all made their way out to the car, including Brady with them. A short ride later, they were at the cemetery. Luke stared down with an almost— _passive_ look on his face. His expression was stone as he listened to all her good deeds.

 _Single mother, did charitable deeds, volunteered in her community._

Brady stared at her grave absently. He let this happen. It was his fault he didn't stop it. He'd find Deathstroke, no matter how long it took.

As it concluded Laura and Melissa spoke softly as they walked towards the car. He took his sunglasses off as his azure eyes met Brady's cobalt. The tension was stifling, but neither showed any emotion.

"You coming?"

Brady followed him crisply. He was definitely coming.

 **TT**

 **Now to a commercial break!**


	12. Chapter 12

**Why have you been gone? I've been waiting here…**

 **Shame on you…**

 **TT**

Luke staggered up the small slump. He pressed his overcoat together, and pushed his scarf tightly. The wind chilled the area, just enough to make his nose tingle. He stopped at the grave.

 _Victoria Wilson._

He liked the sound of that. The only thing he ever wanted was to hear her say that. She never would.

The happiest and saddest day of his life was when Laura was born. The day he lost a life and gained one. He had to protect Laura. His type of work was too dangerous for her. She would not be doing it any longer.

He laid the roses down. He usually came on Laura's birthday, but he felt the urge to come today.

He turned away slowly. He had to get home.

He looked at his watch. Quarter after seven. He walked stiffly to the car.

He soon reached the house, and entered the kitchen. His family and . . . Brady.

 _Fun._

He was staying with them until his aunt got here.

"Good morning."

"Morning." He mumbled. _Brooding? Like father, like son._ Melissa thought wryly. He sat down, reaching for bacon and a pancake.

"Isn't school canceled?" Melissa asked.

"Yeah," Laura said, crunching bacon.

"I need the garage organized," Luke chimed in.

"Us?" Laura asked incredulously.

"You two did a science project in there, didn't you?"

"I thought I'd do it this weekend." She took her plate up.

"Well, it's a mess, and I need it done now," he said firmly. She moaned and dragged herself out of the room. Brady slipped out quietly.

"What's up with you?" Melissa asked, washing dishes.

"I'm tired of an obstacle course of stuff I'm trying not to hit in the garage."

"Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed," she mumbled to herself. He ruffled his hair in annoyance and walked out.

 **TT**

Brady and Laura trekked down to the base. He toyed with the circuitry for a minute.

"I can honestly say that was the messiest garage I've ever seen," Brady said as he lifted the hatch.

"Eh, it's been messier," she shrugged.

They crept to the back, and into weapons room. They spotted some explosions.

"Let's put these in here," Brady suggested. She grinned wickedly.

"I have a small camera we can put in here." Brady fished around in his pocket.

"You really thought this through, huh?"

"Oh, yeah. . ."

They quickly went to work, rigging the whole bunker. It was all controlled by remote.

"This guy is good. He obviously knew where you lived. . ." Laura mused.

"He has cameras of the city."

"Yeah, but maybe it's deeper than this. Maybe he's someone we know," she was absorbed in thought, when they heard someone fiddling with the hatch. They bolted for the rising platform.

Once they got home, they saw Luke sitting on the couch.

"Where were you two?"

"We already cleaned the garage," Laura said indifferently.

"You don't come and go as you please. You tell someone when you're leaving."

"You don't tell anyone when you leave," she shot back.

"I'm an adult." He said strictly.

"What does it matter? I'm here now," she rolled her eyes.

"And, it's a good thing you are, because your grounded," he said harshly. She rolled her eyes and clenched her jaw, as she stopped away. Brady rubbed his neck uncomfortably.

"I'll just go. . ."

 **TT**

Brady pushed the door gently and crept in. He sat in the dark kitchen, and tapped the keys vigorously.

Suddenly, an image popped up onto the screen. He pumped his fist in success as he could see Deathstroke, and another girl.

"I need a thermal scan of that place, I want these people to question my humanity."

"I'm on it."

He began to type next to her, then took off his helmet. He stared eagerly, waiting for him to turn around.

"Is he ever going to turn around," he groaned. He then turned around, searching the room for something. He grabbed the magazine, and reloaded his pistol.

"Laura's dad?" He stared in horror. It all made sense now. The secret job, the random absences, Deathstroke always being one step ahead. It had to be someone close, but this was just appalling.

"I'm going." Brady said to himself in determination. He quickly ran out of the room.

 **TT**

Brady slinked through the old subway station. He darted from side to side. Suddenly, Deathstroke came out of the bunker. Brady darted back to the entrance, and fired a shot at him. He ran out, successfully being followed.

He climbed a fire escape swiftly, and stood across from him.

"I know who you are."

"Took you long enough."

"I really was in the presence of my enemy," he said drily.

He took off his helmet. He had a cruel grin on his face. "Life's funny that way."

He shot directly at the assassin. Luke moved to the side, and shot his own gun. Brady ran under the line of fire, and took out a dagger. He stabbed at him, but Luke dodged with ease. He caught his wrist and bent it so that it pointed at Brady's neck.

"I trust you won't tell anyone."

"Nope. He already knows," he smirked.

He pushed the kid away, and turned around with an unimpressed expression.

"Batman. . ." He put on his helmet. He'd so been busy with brat, he honestly forgot about the Bat.

"You still target children?"

"If you knew the money on this one, you'd be helping me."

Batman quickly threw something razor sharp at him, which scratching his armor. He pressed his earpiece.

"Send them. On the corner of Montgomery and Frankford."

About ten minutes later, a group of about four gangsters showed up on the roof. All sporting the half orange mask.

He slowly rose to his feet. "You're outnumbered."

He quickly disappeared in a cloud of smoke. He turned back to Brady . . . who wasn't there.

"Find that little brat!"

 **TT**

 **Review, Fav, Follow, or sub-**

 **nevermind….**


	13. Chapter 13

**. . . Where have you been?**

 **TT**

Brady slunk down into the subway station. He decided to refrain from telling Laura just yet. It'd just be harder if she knew. Harder to do what he needed to do. He was kind of surprised he wasn't found the other night anyways.

He spotted the hatch, now easily able to hack it. He opened it slowly, as it whined loudly. He poked his head in, looking around briefly. He jumped down quickly, and rushed to the back. The weapons room was empty, besides all the weapons of course.

He did see a surprising amount of grenades and bombs. Just what he wanted.

Most of these bombs could fit in a suitcase. That was very unsettling. Where'd this guy get all this? Did he really work for the government, and assassin was a side job? He went to the main room, and started to set them up.

There was a moment of weakness, where he thought about the fact that he is Laura's dad.

 _Remember what he did._ He forced himself to the thought. He pushed on without question. He stood back to admire his work . . . none of which he could see. They were all hidden. . .

He examined the small remote with a timer on it. Now all he had to do was wait for the perfect opportunity.

Hopefully it'd come sooner rather than later.

 **TT**

Brady and Laura turned down the vibrant street. He dispensed of his frozen yogurt carton in an undesignated area. He casually looked away when Laura glanced at him.

"Is everything okay?"

"Uh, yeah, why would you asked that?" He shifted nervously.

"You've been quiet, and you never litter."

 _She saw that. . ._

"I-uh feel weird," he glanced at his phone, shoving it in his pocket quickly.

"Like sick?"

"Um, are you still hungry? Look, pizza," he quickly brought her over to the outdoor seats.

"Pepperoni," she told the waiter politely. He ordered a side salad, and retrieved his phone. He pulled up the video feed of the lair. Deathstroke was there. Now would be the time. He set his phone down and felt around his pocket.

He slipped the remote into his hand and stood up. "I have to go to the bathroom."

He rushed inside, and into the bathrooms. Locking the stall door, he fumbled with the remote. Then he quickly pushed the button. The timer began to tick from five minutes. He rushed back outside, and took a deep breath.

Being with his daughter was just too hard. He couldn't do this anymore.

"Guys pee fast. . ."

"Can we talk?"

"Uh, sure."

"Uh, you're a really great girl, but I don't think this is going to work out," he scratched his neck.

Her face displayed confusion. "This is out of the blue, what's going on?"

"Nothing—it's not you, it's me."

"Is this about that Alexis girl?" She glowered.

"No, it's just not working out, I'm sorry," he mumbled.

"You can't just do this without an explanation," she declared. He slowly started to walk away. She stood up loudly, catching glances from people. Not that she cared.

She angrily followed him down the street. "Is this about Deathstroke or something?"

A frown came onto his face. "No. . ."

Her eyes widened. "It is. Tell me what."

"No."

She grabbed him by the shirt. "Tell me now."

"He's your father! Happy?" He blurted out.

She stood there with a blank expression on her face. The dream, the secret job, it was all starting to come to her. That dream was no dream. He really was the man in the mask.

"How is that my fault?"

"Goodbye, Laura. . ."

She was seething at this point. Not sad about the breakup, not sad about her father's secret, mad. Mad that he broke up with her over something she couldn't control.

She had to talk to her dad.

 **TT**

She stumbled over large rocks and debris, as she climbed into the station. It looked like a bomb went off. She headed over to inspect the damage.

There was a large hole blown into the floor. She glanced down to see the destruction. Her eyes darted to an orange and black figure. He was in the armor without the mask.

It's official. Her dad was Deathstroke.

She jumped down, and began pushing rocks off of him. She shook him lightly, until his eyes fluttered open.

"Laura?" He groaned.

"Who did this?"

He stared around, his eyes adjusting to the light. "The only person that knew where this place was, or that there were bombs."

She gasped sharply.

"Still think he's prince charming?" He struggled to sit up.

"He broke up with me right after these bombs must've gone up," she murmured in realization. "He . . . was using me."

"Don't worry, I'll make sure he pays for this," he declared. She stared absently. Instantaneously a newfound anger boiled in the pit of her stomach.

Her brow furrowed in determination. "No."

"No?"

"I'm the one who'll make sure he pays for this."

Luke couldn't keep a sly grin off of his face.

"Can we go now?" She asked readily.

"No, we can't go now. They'll be a better time. Just as long as he thinks I'm dead."

She nodded, staring down into the ground. She let him use her, just to get to him. Her father rose to his feet.

"He'll be ours very soon."

 **TT**

 **This wasn't long but I hope you enjoyed.**


	14. Chapter 14

***Cough* I-is it morning yet . . .?**

 **TT**

Laura sat in the salon chair, fidgeting anxiously. Luckily, she had Tiffany there to calm her down.

"Why are you so nervous?"

She shifted in the chair. "Why do you think I'm so nervous?"

"Calm down it's not that big of a deal," Tiffany shrugged.

"If you say so."

"So, what's been going on with you and Brady lately?" She asked with a grin.

"Yeah. . . It didn't work out," she said briskly.

"Why not?" She frowned.

"Because he's a little piece of-"

"What can I do for you today, dear?" The hair stylist came up with impeccable timing.

"I-"

"Can you bob it to about medium length; layer it, then throw in some orange highlights?" Tiffany interjected for her.

"Sounds good."

Laura shot a look over at her, only to see her mouth 'trust me'. Laura sighed, and sank into the chair.

 _Guess it's too late to do anything now._

 **TT**

Laura walked into the house, and their sat her aunt and dad. Melissa sprang up.

"Uh-there's something new about you. . ."

"Yeah, so?"

"Well, it wasn't like this when you left, and you didn't ask," she said sternly.

"Black and orange, I like it," Luke commented. Melissa gave him a look, then turned back to her.

"It's my hair, and if you don't like it then it's too bad. I'm keeping it like this." She declared, and rushed up to her room.

Melissa sighed and flopped onto the couch.

"Oh come on, Melissa, every teenager does it," he said nonchalantly.

"You didn't, I didn't."

"You didn't because you were in a bunker and you had no friends." He said blatantly. She scoffed, and rolled her eyes.

"I went blonde for a month-best month of my life. The point is you have to let her express herself."

"But, when does it end? Nose piercings?"

"She's not you, Melissa. She's not how you were—she has friends," he pointed out. "It's a haircut and hair dye, it's not going to affect anything."

"I hope you're right."

 **TT**

Deathstroke perched on a ledge, scoping out the city. He activated the stealth mode setting, which picked up even the slightest noise. He aimed at the building.

"When are we going to do something?"

"Ah!" He turned it off.

He took a deep breath. "We are doing something."

Laura sighed. "You said you would show me the ropes."

"Spying is an important part of it," he pointed out.

A sudden noise rang through the air. A painful cry was more like it. He came over to the other side of the building and looked down.

Batman. . .

He retrieved his gun, looking through scope. Stop moving! He watched him defeat multiple street thugs, and proceeded to tie them all up.

He couldn't get a clear shot. That and he found it increasingly harder to pull the trigger. _Probably because I have the kid with me, that's all. . ._

"I'll get him." Laura slid down the building.

"No!" He hissed in a sharp whisper. She snuck up behind him with a dagger, but he obviously heard. He took her wrist, spun her around, and handcuffed her. It all happened in a blur.

With a sigh, Luke jumped down to intervene.

 **TT**

The next afternoon, Luke fixed his tie, and grabbed his keys. He quietly eased the door shut, and walked out to the car. He sped off into the busy city. Eventually, he reached his destination.

Although tonight, he was Mr. Harper. He just hoped he remember to put away the blonde hair on the counter.

He entered the gala he didn't want to go to, or speak at, but he had too. He hacked the information so the real Harper was on the other side of the world right now. Well, Angie did, that is. This was all part of his plan.

He tossed the keys to the young man standing by as he drove up. He entered the fancy building, glancing around in disgust. He instantly put on a fake smile, as someone walked by.

It wasn't his first gala, and he recognized most of these people. But, according to the newly entered information he was hosting this. He wasn't the richest person here, but the more important people you assassinate, the better the pay.

Multiple people welcomed him with big smiles, as he made his way to the stage. He climbed the stage, and glanced down at all the guest.

After he was done, he was supposed to introduce some James guy.

He cleared his throat and began. "I'd like to thank you all for coming out tonight. It means a lot that you came out. To enjoy the company, to drink the wine they're most likely going to charge me with."

Small chuckles filled the room.

"We're glad to be here to celebrate the newly built country club upstate." There was a brief silence, as he looked around. "All of you donated so generously for it."

The room began to applaud, as irritation began to build inside of him. The corners of his mouth instantly slumped into a frown.

"Don't clap." He said patently. "I guess I'd happy that you paid for a country club, instead of donating to schools or hospitals. You want to spend your days swing golf clubs and enjoying margaritas, while the middle class slave?"

Dead silence filled the room. Luke still kept his calm composure.

"So please, don't smile at me, and don't pretend like you're philanthropy isn't anything more than an act. You're fake. All of you." He declared.

"Most of you haven't even worked for the money you have. It was given to you—everything you ever needed was handed to you. If you had a taste of the real world . . . you'd be scrounging like the narcissistic rats you are."

Angry murmurs spread through the audience.

"So, enjoy your club, enjoy each other-because I assure you . . . it won't last forever."

He walked off behind the curtain, and out the back door. He found his car waiting for him. That wasn't technically the plan, but it sure felt good.

He'd have to do that again some time.

Suddenly, the real reason he came walked by. His target.

The young man headed towards the stage door. That was the James guy.

He replayed what Angie had told him in his head.

He stole priceless family heirlooms. The family stole them back, but they wanted the man dead. A loud thud shook him out of his thoughts.

Scarlet landed on his hood. Or so she liked to call herself. His jaw dropped, as she flipped off, and tackled the man to the ground. Once Luke finally came over he was an unconscious body on the ground.

"You're welcome," she tossed her hair to the side.

"What were you thinking? Jumping off that car.

"Seriously?" She sighed before doing a double take. "What's up with your hair?"

"I told you I handle the targets, you observe," he reminded her. She groaned in exasperation.

"All I do is observe!"

"Because you aren't ready."

"Oh, I'm not ready? I'll show you ready. I'm not waiting around anymore. I'm going to Brady's house and I'll take care of him myself!"

She stomped off as Luke watched her go. He probably could've handled that better. _I should probably go just in case this kid had a machete under his pillow._

 **TT**


End file.
